


Spoke Those Words In Vain

by geckoholic



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Female Friendship, Gen, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7307650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/pseuds/geckoholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Natasha still plans on rebuilding what's left of them, reaching out to Rogers and soothing the storm, try and repair what's been broken. Only now it won't be in the Avengers’ name, or in that of Stark, but in her own.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoke Those Words In Vain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Idonae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idonae/gifts).



> Missing scenes from Civil War. And when I say _missing scenes_ , what I actually mean is "why did no one tell us where Natasha went" and "where the hell were Hill and Fury", so, you know. That. ;)
> 
> Beta-read by inkvoices. Thank you!! ♥ All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Title is from "When Love Was King" by The Common Linnets.

After storming out of the Avengers’ facility – now just another Stark Industries’ estate, she guesses, with almost all the other _Avengers_ strewn into the wind – Natasha hesitates for maybe a couple of minutes. She did intend to stay here; did intend to help him rebuild what's left of them, reach out to Rogers and soothe the storm, try and repair what's been broken. 

She still plans on doing that. Only now it won't be in the Avengers’ name, or in that of Stark, but in her own. Maybe that's the way it should be anyway. Taking a side didn’t do her many favors, after all. 

 

***

 

In the last couple years her face has been on TV more often than the Pope, but Natasha has thorough training on staying off the radar and melting into a crowd. She sits in the waiting area at JFK and reads a magazine, wearing a wig and large, stylish sunglasses. She boards a plane to Berlin with no one catching a clue whatsoever. She hails a cab and books into a hotel room and then scrolls down the contacts on her phone. 

Sharon answers on the second ring. 

“How’s Rhodes?” she asks, because she is Peggy Carter's niece and knows that people are more important than causes, a lesson her aunt taught both of them. 

“Alive, but not well.” Natasha grimaces, remembers the sight of him in that hospital bed. Over the last few years she's seen too many people she cares about between clean white sheets and hooked to monitors displaying their vitals. “Possible paralysis.” 

“Shit,” Sharon says, succinct as always. She then takes a deep breath, her inhale audible over the phone, and moves on. “Are you calling on behalf of Stark? I can't tell you anything that hasn't been –“ 

“I'm calling on behalf of myself,” Natasha interrupts her, voice decisive, and doesn't offer further explanation. 

 

***

 

They meet for lunch that same day, in a lovely little Italian restaurant not far from the Brandenburger Tor. Not a word is exchanged that goes beyond harmless small talk, but Natasha leaves with two folders of information on the whereabouts of Clint, Sam, and the others. Sharon doesn't have any information on where Steve and Barnes went, which is good, Natasha supposes, because then neither do her superiors. 

Half an hour after she returns to the hotel Natasha's phone rings with an unexpected caller ID. She swipes to take the call and smiles to herself; it shouldn't be a surprise really. “Hello Maria.” 

“Let me guess,” says Maria, forgoing all pleasantries. “You're considering a jail break.” 

 

***

 

Penchant for the dramatic still intact, Fury chooses to hole up in an abandoned internet cafe downtown. It's not a bad lair, all told. There's a back entrance, the windows are barricaded and spray-painted and decorated with graffiti to boot, and the former owners didn't do a very thorough job of cutting the wires and connections. A few flicks of the wrist by someone who knows what they're doing, and an old SHIELD gadget or two, and they’ve got a fully operational miniature headquarters. Maria leads her into the backroom and squeezes her hand, then steps out of the way as Fury points towards a couple monitors, each displaying what looks like hacks from security cameras inside a prison cell. 

Clint's prison cell. Sam's. Wanda's. Natasha swallows hard, once, and then returns her attention to the task at hand. 

“How do we get them out?” she asks. 

Fury grins and Maria nods at a couple of folders on a coffee table in the corner. 

 

*** 

 

She and Maria are putting their heads together over a map of the Raft – heavily classified, but that’s never stopped either of them – when Fury snaps his fingers and then points at the screen displaying the feed from Sam's cell. Stark is standing in front of it. The audio cuts off just as they both turn their heads, but Natasha remembers enough lip reading to make out a few words and cobble together the meaning. 

She exchanges a look with Fury and Maria. She pulls out her phone to dial Sharon's number again, but her fingers go still on the screen. There are more pressing concerns than running after Rogers and Stark _again_ , namely freeing those of her teammates who can’t do any running of their own. 

 

*** 

 

Intel about Barnes and Rogers and Stark, about Zemo and his scheme and the other Winter Soldiers, reaches them a day later. Although she should be most concerned about the extent of the split right down the middle of her team, not dwell on a past threat that has been eliminated anyway, the idea that Barnes wasn't alone is what makes her skin crawl. That Hydra had the super soldier serum and could've done with it whatever they pleased. The world is almost _lucky_ Barnes was the only one they ever got to utilize. 

Any concerns about a squabble between colleagues pales in comparison. 

Either information, however, has much of an impact on the mission she and Maria and Fury are preparing. Not until her phone beeps yet again, this time with a text message from Sharon and coded coordinates for another meeting. 

Sharon doesn't show up alone. 

 

*** 

 

Less than twenty-four hours later and Natasha sits cross-legged in a quinjet, flanked by Maria and Steve, sitting opposite Barnes. The latter can't hold her gaze; Natasha can't stop looking his way. The scar he gave her itches. She recalls their more recent encounters, in Washington, in Berlin, in Leipzig; rolls them over in her mind. 

He's nothing special, all things considered. The ghosts that haunt her have always refused to stay dead and her idols have always turned out to be false. Her allegiances tend to be fluid. It's hardly the first time she's joining forces with someone that has tried to kill her on several prior occasions, and most of them couldn't even claim brainwashing as an excuse. 

 

*** 

 

They're on their own for breaking into the Raft, but they have a place to go afterwards, someone to help and offer them shelter. Some of them do anyway. Clint objects to taking refuge in Wakanda immediately and Natasha doesn't have to ask why – if they go back to the US and stay on the run there meet-ups with his family can at least be organized now and then. If they bail to a country on another continent that's off the table, and while that means splitting up the remainders of the team further, she can’t really argue against it. 

“But you,” he starts after a moment's silence. “You could join them, I mean – “

Natasha shuts him up with a sharp glare. “We've seen what happens when you strike out on your own. I go where you go, end of discussion.” 

He smirks, and it looks out of place on a face with unruly three-day-stubble, while he’s wearing a prison jumpsuit. “Yes, ma'am.” 

She rolls her eyes. He cuts his away, instead studying his hands. From across the belly of the quinjet Wanda squints at her with undisguised mistrust. 

Natasha knows what she's going to say before she opens her mouth and nods in advance. She can understand wanting to repay a favor, to make up for the unwavering trust and support Clint offers you once he's decided you're worthy. She can also understand wanting to protect him, make sure he's looked after in return. 

What stings is that Wanda seems to assume that he'd need protection from _Natasha_. 

 

*** 

 

The goodbyes in Wakanda are short. T'Challa has a plane waiting – unregistered, flying under his diplomatic flag – that’s about to bring her, Clint and Wanda back to the US. No one is going to ask any questions until they're back on American soil, no fear of discovery seeing how she’s technically flying with two wanted fugitives. Natasha knows they all owe him a debt they can never repay. 

Sam hugs her goodbye with no compunctions whatsoever. Steve awkwardly squeezes her shoulder and stumbles his way through an apology and a thank you rolled into one, but falls silent when _she_ hauls _him_ into a quick hug. 

When they part he hands her an envelope with Stark's name, asks her to post it after they arrive as to not raise any unnecessary red flags. Says it'll be faster too than posting it from halfway across the world. 

Natasha has never had a family before, neither in blood nor by choice, but she’s learned enough about them from Clint to know that if they really care about one another they'll find their way back home. Maybe they'll even manage to do that without her help. 

And if they don’t, well. She collected them from all over the world to fight a common enemy once before. She can do it again.


End file.
